


i'm not a princess, this ain't a fairy tale

by countthestars



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, don't want to spoil anything but, harry may or may not be a frog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 15:50:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countthestars/pseuds/countthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I can’t believe you bought a fucking frog.”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“Shut up, Louis. It’s not just any frog, okay?”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Louis rolls his eyes and flops down onto Liam’s bed. “Right, my mistake. It’s your soul-frog. Are you hearing yourself, Liam? Are you hearing the words coming out of your mouth?”</i>
</p>
<p>or; the one where Liam, Louis, and Zayn work in a pet store. Louis and Niall are stupidly in love and Liam is definitely not bitter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm not a princess, this ain't a fairy tale

**Author's Note:**

> because [look](http://nuukacola.tumblr.com/post/65741065119/tommoholics-listen-to-what-im-saying)
> 
> title from 'white horse' by taylor swift
> 
> also translated into polish [here](http://imdejv.tumblr.com/tlumaczenia) by the lovely cilffrds :)

“He’s weird, right? It’s not just me. He’s really fucking weird.”

“Louis! You can’t just _say_ that.”

“Why? It’s the truth, innit?”

“Because he could _hear_ you, oh my god.”

Louis pauses, hand halfway to his mouth to eat another pretzel stick. “You’re very smart Liam. I would never have thought of that.”

“That’s because you never think.”

Louis just winks at him, shoving the pretzel stick into his mouth obnoxiously, and the door to the back room squeaks open.

Zayn pokes his dark head through and Liam shoots Louis a vaguely panicked look – _did_ Zayn hear them calling him weird? That would be just his luck, but Zayn just says, “Uh, Liam? There’s a guy here who says he needs somebody to sign off on a shipment.”

Liam furrows his brow, confused. “A shipment of what?” He exchanges another glance with Louis, who just shrugs unhelpfully. This, at least, doesn’t surprise Liam. Louis is generally unhelpful.

Zayn doesn’t answer Liam’s question, just ducks back out the door, letting it slip shut behind him. Louis makes no move to get up and help Liam, instead looking into the depths of his bag of pretzels for crumbs. He stage whispers, “ _weirdooo_.”

Liam shakes his head at Louis before sighing and reluctantly getting up to follow Zayn. It isn’t fair, he thinks. He still technically has five minutes left of his break before he has to return to work, dealing with stupid costumers and cleaning the last of the cages. The Saturday shift at Paul’s Pet World is supposed to be easy.

The problem is that they don’t typically get shipments on Saturdays. The manager who coordinates the inventory only works Monday through Fridays, and as shipments often include live animals, it’s pretty important the store is prepared to have the habitats ready.

Praying it’s something easy to deal with like dog biscuits or cat litter, Liam enters the main area of the pet store and quickly spots the delivery guy. Zayn, of course, has disappeared altogether, doing who knows what. Liam thinks he spends a lot of time in the dimly lit fish section, staring into the various aquariums and pondering the meaning of life. Louis’ theory involves a lot more anatomically impossible uses for marine life and at least two inappropriate puns about seamen.

Louis is an idiot.

Wondering despondently how he got stuck with two worst co-workers, Liam approaches the delivery guy. He has a bored look on his face and is impatiently flicking a pen against his clipboard that looks like it’s got a delivery slip on it. Liam can see a single, medium-sized cardboard box sitting on the counter next to him

“Sorry,” Liam apologizes, eying the slip warily. “But we don’t normally get shipments on the weekend. Did you clear this with Nick?”

The deliver grunts noncommittally, shoving the clipboard at Liam. On reflex, Liam grabs it, holding it dumbly in his hands. He glances at the box the deliver guy has set on the counter, hears a soft thump. “Er…”

“Look, kid, I don’t have all day, yeah? Just sign by the x and I’ll be on my way.”

“What’s in the box?”

“Dunno. Didn’t order it, did I?” The guy looks at Liam as if he is a particularly dense boulder.

Whatever’s in the box thumps again, and Liam sighs. Definitely some kind of animal. If he refuses to sign and the deliver guy takes it back, who knows what will happen to the little critters? Liam will never find out, most likely, and he doesn’t think he can live with the potential guilt.

His mind made up, Liam scribbles his name sloppily by the x. The delivery guy grabs his clipboard back, actually snatching it out of Liam’s hand, and gives Liam a little salute before turning towards the door.

The little bell above the door tinkles as the deliver guy leaves and Louis chooses that moment to make his reappearance from the break room. “What’s in the box, Liam?”

Liam shrugs. “Guess we’ll have to open it and see.” There’s yet another thump, and Louis wastes no time shoving Liam bodily out of the way and ripping off the tape holding the cardboard flaps shut. Liam absently notes that there are breathing holes punched in regular intervals around the box, so at least whatever’s inside wasn’t suffocating.

Louis finally gets the flaps open and both boys peer down at the box’s contents.

There are five fat frogs sitting in a plastic carrying case that’s been nestled in within the cardboard. Four of the frogs are climbing over each other, their webbed feet scrabbling at the edges of their plastic prison, futilely trying to escape.

The fifth frog, however, is sitting calmly in the middle of the box. He’s blinking up at Liam with big green eyes, a content expression on its little froggy face. Liam frowns, because he didn’t think frogs could look content. To be fair, though, he hasn’t spent much time speculating about frog expressions.

It’s Louis who finally speaks, because Liam is so caught up in his own thoughts, looking down at the little frog. “Huh. Frogs. Guess we better clean out an aquarium in the reptile section.”

“Frogs are amphibians,” Liam corrects automatically. Louis tends to classify anything without fur as a reptile. He once called a parakeet a “lizard with wings.” Liam’s honestly not sure how he still has a job here.

Louis wanders off without acknowledging Liam, presumably to start cleaning, or more likely, tell Zayn to, but Liam’s still staring at the little frog.

It winks at him.

*

Liam can’t stop thinking about the frog.

He tries to google “can frogs wink” on his phone, but Louis catches him and launches into an excited lecture (“Liam Payne. Are you _on your phone at work_ , which is a violation of rule number three hundred forty eight?” “There are not that many rules. Besides, you use your phone all the time!” “I expected more of you, Liam. You’ve really let me down.”).

Zayn doesn’t resurface until it’s almost closing time and when he does, he makes Liam nearly jump out of his skin. Liam had allowed himself one last look at the little frog, peering in the aquarium Louis has settled him in. He had been sure he wouldn’t even be able to tell which one was his (and when did he start thinking of it has his?) because really, it looked no different than the other four.

But. There’s no doubt that it’s Liam’s frog, sitting serenely in the middle of the tank, gazing adoringly ( _adoringly?_ ) into Liam’s eyes.

“Cute.” Zayn’s voice is right in his ear and Liam jumps, whirling around.

Zayn’s usual apathetic expression has been replaced with the hint of a smile, making his eyes crinkle attractively. Liam acknowledges that Zayn’s face does most things attractively, objectively speaking.

“You scared me,” he says unnecessarily. It’d been pretty obvious with the way he jumped, the way he still has a hand to his chest and can feel his racing heartbeat start to slow back to a normal pace.

“It’s a myth, you know,” Zayn says, and Liam’s completely lost.

“Er. Sorry?” Was there more to this conversation that he missed?

“That frogs give you warts. It’s not true,” Zayn continues.

“Oh. Yeah. I knew that.”

“Cool,” Zayn says, and wanders away. Right. Liam hopes absently that he doesn’t sleep in the fish section. That would definitely be crossing some lines.

He can hear Louis exclaiming excitedly from the front of the store as he flips off the neon open sign and locks the door. He thinks he catches the words “pints” and “Niall.” Sounds like it’s going to be a typical Saturday night, then.

Liam glances back one last time at the frog tank. The little frog is still staring at him. Peeking around to make sure no one is nearby to judge him, Liam gently places the pads of his fingers against the glass of the aquarium. He’ll have to clean off the tell-tale smudges before he and Louis can leave, but it seems wrong to leave without acknowledging the little guy somehow.

In a move too deliberate to be a coincidence, the little frog shuffles forward and places one of its webbed feet against the other side of the glass. It would be touching Liam’s fingers but for layer of glass between them.

Fuck. Liam needs a pint.

*

Louis is laughing at him. “Oh my god, Liam, frogs aren’t even capable of thought. It probably thinks you’re a giant fly.”

“How can it think I’m a fly, though, if frogs can’t think?”

“He’s got a point, Lou. Either it thinks Liam’s a fly or it can’t think at all. Can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

“Niall,” Louis whines. “That is not how that idiom works. You can’t use idioms if you don’t know how they work.”

Niall frowns into his pint. “Always thought it was a stupid saying, anyway. Why would anyone want cake they couldn’t eat?”

Louis lets his head slump forward onto the bar. He’s going to regret that, Liam thinks, because Niall’s already spilled half his beer onto the counter and it’s probably really sticky and gross.

Louis doesn’t seem to care though. “I’m dating an idiot,” he moans. Niall rubs his back reassuringly. “It’s okay, love,” he says. “At least I’m cute.”

Louis mumbles something else that could be, “give great head, too,” but Liam chooses to firmly ignore this. Niall and Louis are his two best friends in the world and they try really hard to not make Liam feel like a third wheel. It’s hard, though, when they go out drinking. It takes Niall about half a pint to get handsy. He’d had at least two before Liam and Louis had even arrived and his kiss hello lasted about five minutes.

It’s not easy to feel miserable around two of the most spontaneously joyful people in existence, but Liam is up for the challenge. Feeling more pathetically single than usual, Liam had let them convince him it was a good idea to drink way too much.

He didn’t mean to confess about the frog, but. The way it had put its little froggy hand against Liam’s through the glass had unnerved him. He could accept a winking frog. That was weird, but it could have been an eye twitch. It had unnaturally large eyes, no doubt irritants had to be blinked (winked?) away quite a bit. Completely normal.

The hand thing, though.

He takes another sip of his beer, but the world doesn’t make any more sense.

*

After that, things only get weirder. He has two days off, and when he gets in for his shift Tuesday afternoon, Nick calls him into his office to ask about the frogs. Apparently the delivery guy did not clear the shipment with Nick.

“It’s fine, Liam, five extra frogs won’t hurt anything. I just need the invoice for bookkeeping.”

Liam swears up and down he put it in the basket in Nick’s office, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“The slip was right here, Nick, I swear.”

“I believe you, Liam. If it were Louis, on the other hand…”

Liam still feels bad, though, because it’s going to fuck with Nick’s records and what if they get audited? Nick just shakes his head, tells Liam he worries too much, five unaccounted for frogs won’t bring down Paul’s franchise, and will he please remind Louis that phones are not to be used unless an employee is on break?

When he gets to work Saturday morning, an entire week after the frogs mysteriously arrived, Liam tells himself he is not going to look at them. He is not even going to walk down the reptile aisle. Maybe he’ll go hang out with Zayn by the aquariums, or better yet –

Despite himself, Liam finds his feet carrying him involuntarily towards the amphibian tank. He looks into the tank, not sure what to expect, and sees… oh god. There’s only one frog left, and it’s staring at Liam with the saddest expression on its little face. It looks like a kicked puppy.

It’s a sign how sucked into this whole frog thing Liam is, because he doesn’t even question how a frog can look like a puppy. Making a split second decision, Liam practically runs to the backroom and grabs the roll of “sold” stickers before hurrying back to the tank. He slaps a sticker over the little description beneath the tank, declaring that the little frog is off the market.

The frog croaks happily and Liam swears its dumb froggy mouth turns up in a smile.

*

“I can’t believe you bought a fucking frog.”

“Shut up, Louis. It’s not just any frog, okay?”

Louis rolls his eyes and flops down onto Liam’s bed. “Right, my mistake. It’s your soul-frog. Are you hearing yourself, Liam? Are you hearing the words coming out of your mouth?”

“Is a bit weird, mate,” Niall adds, ducking his head to take a closer look into the aquarium. It’s smaller than the one in the pet store, but Liam’s a poor uni kid on a budget, all right? The little frog seems happy enough. Niall pokes at the glass and Liam is about to tell him off  - first rule is don’t poke the glass, honestly – but the frog does a little happy little jump at the attention.

Niall hums, considering. “Think you could teach ‘im some tricks? Roll over, play dead?”

“I really doubt –“ Liam starts, but Louis bulldozes over him, “Jesus, Ni, don’t indulge him. Of course frogs can’t learn to fucking play dead.”

Liam might be imagining it, but he thinks the frog is glaring at Louis. Liam half expects it to flop over and prove Louis wrong.

It doesn’t, of course, because Louis is right – it’s a fucking frog. Niall, however, having apparently taken offense to Louis’ words, flops over on top of Louis. He starts tickling him, and Louis’ shrieking laughter fills the room.

“Oi,” Liam says. Niall’s room is literally down the hall and Liam’s just changed the sheets. They may still have their clothes on, but Liam’s learned from experience that tickle fights usually end up with Niall and Louis naked and breathless.

They have some really weird foreplay.

Niall beams up at Liam where he’s got Louis pinned and giggling beneath him. “Aww, Leeeyum,” he coos, “are you feelin’ left out?”

“No,” Liam says quickly, but Louis is already gasping out between peals of laughter, “Is… your… soul… frog… aaahhah, Niall!... not… satis-HA-satisfying… your… needs?”

Niall is giggling helplessly into Louis’ neck and Liam is absolutely not jealous. In fact, he’s really, really happy for them. He lucked out, winding up with Niall as a flatmate when his mate Andy bailed on him last minute, deciding to pursue an opportunity in the t-shirt entrepreneurial business instead of uni. In sudden need of housing, Liam had answered Niall’s ad looking for someone to sublet the second bedroom and wound up staying indefinitely.

He’d met Louis a few weeks later through the part-time job he’d gotten at the pet shop only a few blocks from campus. Louis was loud and obnoxious and had no concept of personal space.

In almost no time at all, they’d become the most important people in his life. Liam had worried, when he’d first introduced them, that they wouldn’t get on and he’d be stuck in that awkward place between two people who can’t stand each other.

Turned out that he had the exact opposite problem.

But he is happy for them, because if anyone deserves to be stupidly in love, it’s Niall and Louis. It’s just. It’s lonely, sometimes, is all.

Liam is maybe a little too lost in his sad thoughts, because it doesn’t even register that the giggling has stopped before he’s suddenly buried in wriggling, sweaty boys. There are four hands aggressively tickling him and before long there are tears streaming from his eyes and he’s choking on laughter.

“Stop, stop, oh my god, _please_.”

The torture mercifully comes to an end and both Niall and Louis are still slumped over him, panting from the exertion. Liam wraps his arms around them, because they may be dating each other, but they always make room for Liam.

“Missed your smile, Payno,” Louis whispers into his neck.

Liam squeezes him harder.

*

“Hey, Li, you never said what you ended up naming him.”

“Hmm?”  Liam hums absently. He and Louis are in the fish section, cleaning out tanks. This is easily Liam’s least favorite part of the job. He supposes, though, that if the fish have to be enclosed in a glass prison, the least he can do is make sure there’s no algae blocking their view out into the world.

He doesn’t tell Louis this thought, because Louis would ridicule him mercilessly. He gets enough shit about the frog thing.

“Your frog,” Louis clarifies, as if he read Liam’s mind.

“Oh. I haven’t really given him one? I guess I just call him Froggy.”

Louis drops the net he’d been holding, terrorizing the fish and attempting to scoop them up instead of doing his actual job. “You named your frog ‘Froggy’?”

“That’s not a very good name,” a new voice breaks in, and both Louis and Liam jump. Zayn is standing there, his face its usual mask of apathy.

He hears Louis mutter something under his breath, either weirdo or wanker, Liam can’t tell, but he elbows Louis sharply in the stomach because _really_. Zayn is _right_ _there_.

Zayn either didn’t hear the insult, though, or doesn’t care, because he’s still looking at Liam. “You can’t call him Froggy.”

“Why not?” it comes out more petulant that Liam meant. It’s his bloody frog, okay, and he should be able to call it whatever he likes without being critiqued like this.

“It’s not a very good name,” Zayn repeats, his tone a bit more forceful.

“Oh?” Louis asks, and Liam can tell his protective instincts are kicking into overdrive. Louis may be allowed to take the piss out of Liam’s name choice, but god forbid someone else try to. “And what the fuck would be a better name?”

“Louis!” Liam hisses, because honestly, he does not need his honor defended over a frog name.

Zayn flicks an annoyed glance at Louis, but otherwise ignores him. “I don’t know. He needs a name that’s special. Any frog could be a Froggy. Your frog is unique.”

Liam can feel his jaw gaping open. This is easily the most words Zayn’s strung together at any time since he started working here barely a month ago. Even Louis has been rendered silence by Zayn’s speech.

In typical Zayn fashion, he turns and leaves without waiting for a reply or acknowledging the end of the conversation at all. Liam wonders off-handedly where Zayn is going, as he and Louis are in his usual haunt cleaning fish tanks. It seems less mysterious to stare into the depths of the rabbit cages.

“ _So_ fucking weird,” Louis declares before picking up his net and resuming his fish torture.

“Yeah,” Liam replies, Zayn’s words replaying in his head.

_Your frog is unique_.

Maybe Liam should think of a better name than Froggy.

*

“No. Absolutely not.”

“ _Liam_ ,” Louis whines. “Your love life consists of staring at a frog and wanking in the shower. You are coming out tonight and you are going to snog a human.”

Placing a plate in the drying rack, Liam reaches into the soapy water for the next dirty dish. If he ignores Louis, maybe he will lose interest and find something shinier to play with.

It doesn’t work. Louis starts poking him in the side, each time harder than the last. “Liam. Liam. _Liam_.”

“WHAT! Oh my god, Louis, you are way too invested in my love life. You’re one of those annoying people who’s so stupidly happy in their own relationship that they insist on matchmaking everyone around them.”

Liam turns, pokes a soapy finger in Louis’ chest. “I. Am. Happy. Leave me alone. Go choke on your boyfriend’s dick.” And alright, maybe he didn’t mean to let that last bit slip out. It’s fine, he can laugh it off as a joke. He’s not single and bitter about it. Ha ha ha. Nope, not Liam.

“Believe me, Liam, I would love to choke on Niall’s—“

“La la la, not listening,” Liam hurriedly covers his ears.

“—but,” Louis continues, “I get no satisfaction, knowing you’re unhappy.”

Liam looks up at the ceiling. He is so not here for this conversation.

“ _Please_ Liam.” Louis gives him his best puppy dog eyes.

Liam sighs. He has a feeling he is going to regret this.

*

Liam is really, really drunk.

Like, _exceptionally_ so. Louis would be proud, he thinks, only. Wait. Where is Louis? Liam looks around and it appears that he’s in a bathroom.

Oh, right. He went for a wee. He told Louis he’d be right back and then he went to the loo and now, he thinks, maybe it’d be a better idea just to curl up right here. He can just take a quick nap, a power nap, even, and then rejoin the party in the club.

He should not have taken that last shot.

The bathroom door opens and Liam sees a pair of skinny legs clad in black jeans walk in. He looks up, his head thunking uncomfortably against the wall, and it takes him a moment to process.

“Zayn?” he asks. That can’t be right. Zayn just hangs out in the fish section. He doesn’t go out to clubs. He certainly doesn’t own a leather jacket.

“Well, I certainly didn’t steal it, mate,” and oh. Oh, maybe Liam said that out loud. He’s really drunk, is the thing.

“I can see that,” Zayn says. Then he’s reaching down, grasping Liam’s forearm. “C’mon, up you get,” he grunts, pulling Liam up with no small effort. Liam stumbles to his feet before slumping bodily into Zayn. This is nice. Zayn is nice. Better than the floor. Maybe he’ll stay here instead.

“Thanks, mate, I appreciate that, but maybe we should get you home, hey?”

That’s a good plan too. Zayn has so many great ideas. Liam doesn’t know why he and Louis thought he was so weird. Zayn is _awesome_.

“Is that what you and Louis are always whispering about me?” Oops. Liam didn’t mean to say that out loud. Zayn sounds amused, though, not angry, so maybe it’s okay.

Liam trips no less than three times, but Zayn is there to steady him. Eventually, they make it out of the crowded club and Liam takes several deep breaths in the cold night air. Zayn’s still eying him, asks him if he gets Liam into a cab, can Liam handle it from there?

“Zayn,” Liam slurs. He never knew Zayn was so _nice_. He needs to tell Louis immediately. He starts patting down his pockets, searching for his phone, and nearly falls over.

“Right,” Zayn says. “You can tell Louis all about me tomorrow, okay? Right now we’re going to get a cab.”

“Okay,” Liam agrees happily.

Zayn has such great ideas.

*

It feels like there’s a sledge hammer drilling inside Liam’s head when he wakes up.

Groaning, he rolls over and buries his head in his pillow. The sunlight streaming in his window is sending shooting stabbing pains through his brain and he regrets every decision he ever made in life that brought him to this moment.

Now that he’s awake, though, he has an almost unbearable need for a drink. He flings an arm out, feeling around the table by the bed for a glass of water, and only manages to knock his alarm clock on the floor.

Fuck. He needs to go to the kitchen to get water then. He sits up and the pounding in his head makes him want to cry. Taking a few deep breaths, Liam steadies himself. He can do this, he can.

Opening his eyes, slowly so the light doesn’t overwhelm him this time, Liam turns automatically to check on Froggy.

The tank is empty.

Flying out of bed, Liam trips over last night’s clothes that are still strewn around the floor in his haste to get the tank. His eyes scan the aquarium frantically, but it’s really not that big. There aren’t any places Froggy could hide.

The cover to the tank is also askew, resting on top of the tank at an angle.

If Liam weren’t so hungover, he could puzzle these clues together more easily. Clearly, Froggy has escaped. Liam’s had him for a few weeks now, however, and he’s pretty sure the cover is too heavy for Froggy to move on his own.

He must have had an accomplice.

Liam groans again. Maybe he’s still drunk, because that’s the dumbest thought he’s ever had. He needs water, and maybe some toast, and then he’s going to kill Louis for dragging him to the pub and rubbing his happiness in Liam’s face.

Satisfied with this plan, Liam stumbles out his bedroom door and towards the kitchen. He pulls up abruptly when he sees that someone is sleeping on the couch, tucked under a blanket.

Liam’s memory of the night before is shoddy at best, but he thinks maybe he remembers seeing Zayn in the loo. Oh god, Zayn! Zayn helped Liam out of the pub, into a cab, and then—

Nothing. Liam can’t remember a fucking thing after that.

He walks closer to the couch, head protesting every step, and realizes that there’s a head poking out at the end the blanket. It’s not Niall’s blonde locks or Louis’ caramel waves, not even Zayn’s dark quiff.

The head is covered in dark brown curls that look mussed from sleeping and Liam kind of wants to run his fingers through them to see if they’re as soft as they look.

As if he can sense Liam’s scrutiny, the boy snuffles in his sleep, wriggling on the couch before turning and blinking his eyes open sleepily.

His eyes are green. Like, really green.

Frog green.

The boy catches sight of Liam and smiles at him, mumbling, “hiiiii.”

“Hi,” Liam says, smiling back before his brain catches up. “I mean. Um. Not to be rude, or anything, but… who are you?”

The boy laughs softly and it sounds rusty from sleep. Liam’s mouth feels dry. He really needs that water.

“Guess you were pretty drunk last night. Do you really not remember?”

Liam closes his eyes and concentrates, but all he gets are random flashes. Crawling into the cab behind Zayn, giggling drunkenly into his shoulder. Falling down on the steps leading up to the second floor. Rambling on about, oh god, was he talking about Froggy? He thinks maybe he took Zayn into his room to show him, but it’s kind of hazy.

There are definitely no memories of the curly haired boy. Shrugging apologetically, Liam shakes his head no. His grabs at his temple immediately. That was a bad idea.

“Oh god, c’mon, sit down,” the boy urges, patting the couch next to him. “I’ll make you some tea and explain everything, okay?”

“Okay,” Liam mumbles and sinks onto the cushion.

He can hear the boy moving around the kitchen, cabinet doors creaking as he searches for things, the faucet running as he fills the kettle. Liam settles back into the couch, trying to cure his headache through force of will. It’s a losing battle.

He wonders absently if Froggy has escaped to the kitchen, if the mystery boy will find him by accident. He should warn him, Liam thinks. He wouldn’t want Froggy to scare the boy, or worse, the boy to hurt him or something.

Liam’s started to doze off when the boy ambles back into the living room, apologizing when he bumps into the couch on accident and startles Liam fully awake. He makes up for it when he hands Liam a cup of steaming tea. Liam takes a sip. There’s not enough sugar, but it feels good on his parched throat.

“So.”

“So.” The boy echoes, smiling almost bashfully at Liam. “My name’s Harry, I’m Zayn’s friend?” He says it like it’s a question. Before last night, Liam wouldn’t have believed that Zayn had a friend. He nods at Harry to continue.

“He called me last night. Said you were really drunk and he didn’t want to leave you alone, but he had an early shift today and couldn’t stay.” Harry grins at him over the rim of his mug. “When I got here, you were sitting on the floor in your room, crying about your frog?”

“Oh my god,” Liam groans, hiding his face in his hands. Harry’s words have sparked a memory. Liam reaching into Froggy’s tank, bringing his little frog face up to Liam’s and – oh god.

“Did I _kiss_ him?”

Harry cocks his head. “No, I don’t think so? Zayn probably would have mentioned it, if you had.”

“No, not Zayn, I mean, _fuck_.”

Harry’s eyes widen and he laughs loudly as he realizes what Liam meant. “Oh! Zayn did say you’d tried to kiss a frog, but I thought he was just taking the piss.”

Maybe, if he tries hard enough, Liam can will himself to sink into the couch cushion until it swallows him. Then he will never have to face the world and the knowledge that not only did he kiss a frog, but that Zayn and Harry know about it.

There’s a hand squeezing Liam’s shoulder comfortingly, though, and Harry’s gravelly voice says, “It’s okay, Liam, we’ve all been there.”

Liam risks a glance up at Harry. “You mean you’ve also gotten pissed out of your mind and kissed a frog?”

“Well, no. Not that, specifically,” Harry says cryptically.

“What have you kissed, then?” Liam challenges.

“Mmm,” Harry hums, scooting closer so that his thigh is pressed alongside Liam’s. “It’s not a ‘what’ so much as a ‘who.’”

“ _Who_ , then?”

The corners of Harry’s mouth turn up in a smile as he leans into Liam’s space, and Liam thinks he kind of looks like a cute frog. Oh, fuck. That is _not_ a normal thought.

Harry must interpret his look of panic at his brain apparently abandoning ship as rejection, because he sits back quickly. “Shit, fuck, I’m sorry, Liam, I thought, like, if you were willing to kiss a frog...”

“That I’d kiss you?” Liam yelps.

“Am I that disgusting?” Harry pouts, kicked puppy expression on his face.

“No! No, of course not. It’s just.” It’s just that this is a lot to process. Liam got really drunk and kissed a frog and now he’s really hungover and got a cute boy on his couch and he’s not entirely unconvinced the two aren’t somehow, like, related.

“Do you take care of all of Zayn’s drunk acquaintances?” he blurts out.

Harry shoots him a sly smile. He’s got a remarkably quick recovery time from rejection. “Just the cute damsels in distress.”

“Oh my god,” Liam groans. “That is literally the worst line. I’m not even a damsel.”

“You are cute, though,” Harry argues.

“ _Cute?_ ” He would have preferred ruggedly handsome. Chiseled, maybe. A young David Beckham. Puppies (and frogs, his traitorous brain adds) are cute. Also, Harry. Harry is cute. It’s the curls, he thinks.

Harry shoots him a pained look. “Help me out here, Liam. I’m sitting next to a really attractive boy with appallingly low standards and I can’t get him to kiss me. What am I doing wrong?”

Liam is speechless. This kind of thing doesn’t _happen_ to him. It’s like a fairy tale, waking up and having Prince Charming sleeping prettily on your couch, wanting to _kiss_ you. A thought occurs to him.

“Did Louis put you up to this? Tell me the truth, I promise I won’t be mad.” He’ll be furious.

“Louis?” Harry is adorable when he looks confused.

“Look, either Lou, like, paid you off or something, or when I kissed my frog he really did turn into a prince, because this kind of thing _does not happen to me_.”

Harry’s mouth works soundlessly, like he can’t quite figure out what he wants to say first. “I’m not a frog,” is what he finally settles on.

“Obviously not _anymore_ ,” Liam says, exasperated.

“I was never a frog,” Harry clarifies.

“Then you can tell Louis his joke was really hilarious and also he better sleep with one eye open because I’m going to kill him.”

“I don’t even – look, Liam. I slept on this lumpy couch because my mate Zayn was worried about you. He doesn’t – Zayn’s not really a people person, so you obviously made an impression on him. I’m sorry if, like, hitting on you crossed some line or whatever, but frog obsession aside, I think you’re fucking fit. This is a _thing that’s happening to you_ , if you’d bloody let it.”

“Oh.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Harry repeats mockingly, running a hand through his hair.

“I mean. Shit. We can, uh, I’d like to do the kissing thing. If. If that’s still an option.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “As if kissing is never _not_ an option, honestly.”

Liam would argue, he’s not even sure about what, but apparently Harry was serious about the kissing thing because all of a sudden Liam’s got a lapful of boy and Harry’s pretty pink lips are slanting against his own. Harry takes Liam’s fat bottom lip between his teeth, nipping lightly, and Liam lets out an embarrassing moan.

Harry hums in approval, slipping his tongue past Liam’s teeth. He doesn’t pull back until they’re both short of breath.

“Do I kiss better than your frog?”

Liam lets his head slump back against the couch. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

Harry takes advantage of the way the column of Liam’s throat is now exposed to him, sucking on the tender skin. “Mmm, might forget all about it, if you keep calling me a prince.”

“Nghh,” Liam says.

He’s got a very sensitive neck.

*

Froggy turns up three weeks later in the bathtub when Niall is taking a shower. He screams bloody murder and rips the shower curtain down trying to flee from the slippery tub.

Louis nearly pisses himself laughing before remembering that he should probably ask Niall if he’s okay first. The resulting wrestling match ends in a broken lamp, Niall twisting his knee, and, if the sounds filtering through the flat’s thin walls are any indication, some very energetic sex.

Harry, having become accustomed rather quickly to Louis and Niall, doesn’t react to any of this. He watches Liam place Froggy carefully back in his tank, and amused expression on his face.

“I told you I wasn’t a frog.”

“Who needs a frog, when I’ve got a prince?” Liam retorts, shooting Harry a wink over his shoulder.

“You’re such a sap, Liam.”

“You love it.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, still sitting serenely in the middle of Liam’s bed, gazing adoringly into Liam’s eyes. “I really do.”

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this story _as a joke_. i don't know how it got so long, but thank you if you made it to the end!!


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